


p.s. I love you

by ktlsyrtis



Category: Holby City
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-10-20 14:25:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17624087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ktlsyrtis/pseuds/ktlsyrtis
Summary: Serena Campbell is having averybad day.The CEO position has once again been snatched away by an egotistical man and her sleazy ex-husband is driving her crazy. Especially now that he’s spreading rumors that this mysterious “Bernie” she claims to be dating is a piece of fiction, designed to keep her from looking like a sad spinster.Unbeknownst to Edward, Bernie is quite real. And unbeknownst to Serena, her girlfriend is planning a surprise of her own…





	p.s. I love you

**Author's Note:**

> This project started its life as a round of 'fic tennis' between myself and the lovely ddagent. I couldn't get the idea out of my head, and this (two years later) is the result!
> 
> Eternal gratitude to Kelly for the inspiration, Bonnie for being the best beta ever, and Beth for her unwavering support and encouragement, even when I'm being a whiny pain in the ass ;)

The shrill ring of the telephone startles Serena, wine slopping over her hand a little. She sets her glass down with a curse, fumbling for the handset with one hand while drying the other on her faded RAMC t-shirt. Scrambling onto the bed, she settles back against the headboard as she listens to the familiar recorded message.

“ _...an incoming call for:_ ”

“Serena Campbell.”

Serena can’t help the grin that spreads across her face at the familiar voice, holding her breath as the call finally clicks over.

“Hello?” The line crackles and pops, but the connection seems blessedly stable for once.

“Hey there, soldier.”

“Hey yourself.” Serena closes her eyes, letting Bernie’s voice wash over her, a balm after the hurts and indignities of her day. “How’s Holby’s most incredible doctor? Or should I say most incredible CEO?”

To Serena’s abject horror, Bernie’s excitement seems to break a dam inside; her eyes suddenly well up, a sob escaping her lips before she can even get a word out.

“Serena?” The concern in Bernie’s voice is immediate, even over the omnipresent background static. “Darling, what’s wrong? What happ-... Wait, no. No _way_. Tell me they didn’t!”

Serena sniffles miserably, pulling up her knees to wrap her arms around her flannel-clad legs, phone tucked in the crook of her shoulder. “They gave it to someone else. Apparently the decision was made last week, but no one bothered to tell me until the new CEO swanned onto the ward with a trauma case in tow.”

“Those _utter_ bastards. Oh love, I am _so_ sorry.” 

“I just thought this time would be different, I guess. That this was my shot.” Serena hates how small her voice sounds, how defeated. She’s just so bloody _tired_.

“Well, the board has clearly lost their minds if they think there’s anyone who can do that job better than you.” Bernie sighs and Serena presses the phone tighter to her ear, as if that could somehow bring them closer together. “I wish I was there with you...”

Serena’s stomach drops, throat thick with guilt. She generally tries to keep these calls positive, unwilling to burden Bernie with her struggles, not the least of which is how much she misses the woman on the other end of the line. “No, love, it’s fine. I didn’t mean to get all maudlin. Today’s been mad and then Edward-” Serena presses her lips together with a wince, hoping against hope Bernie hadn’t heard. No such luck.

“What did that tosser do now?” Her voice is practically a growl over the spotty connection. 

It’s entirely possible that, despite never having met the man, Bernie Wolfe is the only person in the world who hates Serena’s ex-husband more than she does. 

“It’s nothing, really,” Serena dithers. “Just Edward being Edward.”

“Serena,” Bernie’s voice hardens. “ _Tell me._ ” There’s no weaseling out of it now, she knows, not once Bernie digs her heels in. 

Serena sighs; she rather prefers when this side of Bernie makes an appearance in more _intimate_ situations.

“He’s been running his mouth on the ward, telling everyone that will listen he’s my ex. That he wants to get me back, if you can believe it, which wouldn’t happen if he was _literally_ the last person on the planet.” Bernie’s disbelieving snort brings a smile to her face. 

Their ex-husbands had been one of the things they first bonded over during their time at St. Bart’s, burgeoning friendship forged over strong cups of coffee and glasses of shiraz as Bernie worked through her divorce from Marcus with the support of Serena: local representative of the ‘embittered ex-wives club.’ 

Neither of them having any idea how important they would become to one another. 

“And then today...I found out he’s been spreading rumors. About, uh, about you.” Serena’s hand wanders to her pendant, absently sliding it back and forth along the chain. “He’s got it in that infantile brain of his that you’re not _real_. The latest gossip, according to the porters, is that I made you up in order to make Edward jealous.” 

Silence drags.

And drags. 

The flicker of static the only indication that the line is still active. 

“Bernie?”

A laugh blasts through the phone; a great goose honk that never fails to make Serena smile. 

“That’s the best he’s got?” Bernie asks incredulously. “‘My drop dead gorgeous wife left my useless arse, and now concocted a new relationship in order to somehow win me back’?” Another wheezing laugh punctuates her words. “Who even believes this horseshit?”

“Everyone, apparently,” Serena grumbles. “They make me out to be some sort of sad old spinster who’s desperate for a shag.” 

“As if there’s a world where you wouldn’t have offers lined up around the block.”

“I’m glad you still think so. _Although_ …” she says, drawing out the syllables, teeth on her tongue. “They’re not wrong about the ‘desperate for a shag’ bit.”

“Well, we can’t have that, can we Ms. Campbell?” Bernie’s voice drops to a veritable purr and Serena squeezes her thighs together. “I’m scheduled for a longer call next week. Maybe I can provide some assistance?”

“That’s a tempting offer, Major. I’ll make sure to clear my schedule.” 

“Always happy to serve, ma’am.” It’s Bernie’s turn to sigh a little wistfully. “I just wish it could be in person. Eight months is too long to go without touching you.”

Serena smiles, despite the lump in her throat. “I know, dearest. I miss you, too. But we’re six months in; shouldn’t be too much longer.” She wonders if this will ever get any easier. 

She’d expected it to; expected that they would grow accustomed to being apart. That the urgency and longing of their early relationship would lessen with their near constant distance. 

That hasn’t happened: three years in and they still want one another with all the intensity of their first passionate encounter. 

“Maybe we could go away again when you’re on leave?”

“We should go back to Barcelona. Actually see some of the city, unlike last time.”

Serena snorts in disbelief. “And whose fault was that? _You’re_ the one who barely let me out of bed the entire trip.”

“It couldn’t be helped.” She can picture the smug little grin on Bernie’s face. “You’re just too bloody beautiful to resist, Campbell.”

“I think all that sun has finally bleached your brain,” Serena says derisively.

“Nope, no way I could forget that. You’re gorgeous. Which I’ll make sure to prove to you in eight weeks.” Bernie’s voice lowers to a husk. “ _Repeatedly._ ”

Serena clears her suddenly dry throat. It’s a short call this week; they can’t afford to get too distracted. “So we’re still on for eight weeks, then?”

“Looks like. Eight, ten at the outside.” Serena can hear shuffling in the background. “Next week we should start talking about plans.”

“I’d like that.”

A beep breaks through their conversation, the inevitable reminder of the end of their allotted time approaching.

“Same time next week?” Serena knows Bernie does everything in her power to make their scheduled weekly calls, but things are unpredictable in a war zone. Even if it doesn’t happen, having the date on the calendar, knowing Bernie is thinking of her, makes the distance between them feel that much smaller.

“I hope so. I’ll text to confirm when we get closer.”

“Alright. You take care of yourself, soldier.” Serena hopes Bernie can’t hear the husk of tears in her voice. This, too, never seems to get any easier.

“Is that an order?” 

“You best believe it. I need you in one piece so I can ravish you in two months.”

“Aye aye!” Bernie’s voice softens, reaching out to Serena over thousands of miles and static-y phone lines. She closes her eyes and for just a moment it’s as if they are in the same room. “I love you, Serena.”

“I love you, too. Goodnight, darling.” A click and the static disappears into a droning tone as the line disconnects. 

Serena presses the handset against her chest for a long moment, eyes closed, finally replacing it on the receiver and retrieving her glass of wine. _Two months_ , she thinks. _I can do two months._ She glances at the nightstand, at the framed photo of them Elinor had taken the previous summer; Bernie’s arms wrapped around her waist from behind, mischief in her eyes as she whispered something likely _deeply_ inappropriate in Serena’s ear, making her laugh joyously. Those are the moments she holds onto when the distance between them feels insurmountable. Despite, or perhaps because of, spending so little time actually together, the times they do have are filled with precious, golden memories; bursting at the seams with happiness and love the likes of which Serena never expected to find in her life.

 _That_ will always be worth waiting for.

\---

4,500 miles away, Major Bernie Wolfe presses the bulky sat phone against her lips for a moment before tossing it onto her cot. She checks the time and swears, grabbing a stack of clothes and shoving them into her duffel.

No time to be neat; she has a plane to catch.

\---

Bernie hitches her duffel higher on her shoulder as she steps through the sliding doors of baggage claim, taking a deep breath. The sky is overcast, the air slightly damp, smelling of earth, of trees, overlaid by a crush of cars and people. It’s so different from the grit of sand and tang of tank fuel; the heat that wicks the moisture from your lungs.

It smells of home and she can feel the prick of tears in her eyes even as a grin splits her face.

“Mum!” She turns just in time to catch the girl running towards her, dropping her bag to the pavement with an ‘oof’ as slim arms wrap around her neck. She squeezes back just as tightly, burying her face in the riot of blonde curls so like her own.

“Hullo, Charlie,” she murmurs, throat tight with emotion. “Let me have a look at you.” 

Bernie steps back, taking her daughter’s grinning, tear-stained face in her hands, eyes darting over every inch, trying to take in all of her at once. Cameron may have taken after Marcus, all dark and brooding, but there is no denying Charlotte is her daughter. Tall and slim, with gangly limbs that she finally grew into in her late teens. Her mother’s dark eyes and strong features, but slightly softer, less hawkish than Bernie’s own. 

Bernie tugs her into another fierce hug, pressing a kiss to her unruly hair.

Charlotte pulls away with a laugh, grabbing the duffel from the pavement. “Right, enough blubbering. We have to get a move on, or we’ll be late.” 

Bernie slings an arm around Charlotte’s shoulders as they walk to the car, unwilling to relinquish her hold on her youngest just yet.

She hardly speaks on the drive, lets herself bask in her daughter’s presence as she talks a mile a minute the entire way. Watches her face as she talks about school, about the boy she broke up with weeks ago, the girl in her art history class she’s thinking about asking out for coffee. 

Bernie is so grateful for moments like this, knows how close she came to losing them. Her children were furious after the divorce, a situation Marcus happily took advantage of, positioning himself as the dutiful father and aggrieved party. 

It’s taken countless olive branches, careful overtures, and some long, painful conversations to win back her children’s trust, to rebuild her relationships with them. She doesn’t think she could’ve done it without Serena’s support and advice, and the fact that not only is her relationship with her kids strong and secure, but that they also both fiercely love Serena still feels like a miracle.

Charlotte pulls the car to a stop outside of a block of flats near the university, regaling Bernie with stories of Cam’s latest ex-girlfriend.

They don’t have long to wait before the back door of the car swings open, a duffle bag tossed on the seat, followed quickly by a young woman, her long red hair pulled back in a rough ponytail. She leans forward with a beaming smile, wrapping her arms around Bernie and her seat all at once, head near her shoulder. Bernie meets her smile in the rear view mirror, squeezes her wrist affectionately. 

“Hullo, Ellie.” Elinor releases her and slides over to hug Charlotte just as hard before settling back, tucking her legs beneath her as Charlotte pulls away from the curb. 

“I’m so excited for this,” Ellie gushes, practically bouncing in her seat. “Mum’s going to freak when she sees you!”

“You don’t think she suspects?” She doesn’t think she’s given anything away, but still Bernie frets, worries that in her excitement she have accidentally let something slip to Serena, or that one of the girls might have. 

“Not a thing. She texted me this morning to see if I wanted to do lunch and shopping her next day off.”

“And her schedule?” 

“Sorted. Mr. Griffin is covering her shifts until Tuesday.” 

Bernie pulls out her phone as Elinor and Charlotte chatter on about some party they’re planning on going to, scrolls through her email until she finds the confirmation of the cabin she reserved. 

Tucked away in the countryside, with a plush king sized bed, huge flagstone fireplace in the sitting room, and a hot tub on the back deck, for a start, she knows Serena is going to love it. Her mind wanders to thoughts of that bed and the many, _many_ ways she can imagine Serena expressing her pleasure, her body suddenly all too aware of every minute they’ve been apart.

With a cough and a shake of her head, Bernie clears the thoughts from her mind. Her hand taps out a beat on her knee in time with her racing heart, as she looks out the window at the city rolling by, every moment taking her that much closer to Serena.

\---

_Fucking Guy Self._

Serena drops into the chair behind her desk with a huff of frustration. One day and already their new CEO seems determined to lord his power over the consultants of the hospital, outright dismissing the collective experience and ideas of those who have been here longer, instead spending his introductory meeting extolling the virtues of neurosurgery (his specialism, by some amazing coincidence), proclaiming that extensive funding in that area is “the future of Holby City.” 

Afterwards, he’d nodded and smiled his way through their handoff meeting, far more absorbed in his emails than any of Serena’s carefully prepared information, dismissing her with little more than a pat on the head and an assurance that he’d “let her know” if he needed anything more.

 _Infuriating little man_.

She’s barely logged into her computer when the office door swings open. A quick glance up and she returns to her email with a roll of the eyes.

“Edward, I’m hardly in the mood.”

Her ex-husband ignores her, as always, instead walking further into the room and hitching his hip against the edge of her desk, a smug little grin on his face.

“Tough time with the new boss, eh? You never did like men above you.”

“Especially smug, self-important, egotistic men,” she grumbles, leaning back in her chair with her arms crossed. “Come to think of it, isn’t that why I divorced you?”

Edward raises his hands in mock surrender. “I’m on your side, Rena.” She scowls at the nickname. “Look, why don’t we go out for a drink tonight. A proper drink, just the two of us.” His voice is low and smooth; it’s a tone she knows well, the one Edward would pull out when he wanted to get Serena into bed, or to talk his way around her suspicions of yet another affair. 

It raises her hackles, even now.

“Is that an offer, or a proposition?” Serena asks coolly, seeing the way Edward’s leer widens, the way he shifts that much closer on the desk, so certain that he has her back in the palm of his hand.

“It’s whatever you want it to be.” The words are like rancid oil on her skin, cloying and revolting. She lets her eyes trail over him, from his knock off wingtips, up to his nauseatingly confident smile. Smiles herself, though he can’t seem to read the threat behind it.

“What I want,” Serena says, pitching her voice low, seeing the glint of victory in Edward’s eyes. "Is for you to get the hell out of my office." 

The flush of satisfaction she feels at his shock buoys her.

"Look, Rena. I-"

"No, Edward, you look!" She gets to her feet, puts herself at eye level with him. "I may have made the mistake of falling for you once, but if you think there is _any_ chance of that happening _ever_ again, then clearly you're even more delusional than I thought." 

Edward's spine straightens, an angry flush suffusing his face as she continues.

"And even _if_ , in some alternate universe, you were still in any way attractive to me, it still wouldn't happen. You know very well that I'm in a relationship."

"The mysterious Bernie?" Edward sneers, face twisting into an ugly expression that brings to mind countless arguments from the end of their marriage. " _Please_. It's awfully convenient that your 'perfect man' is across the planet and that no one here has ever met him, don't you think?"

Serena rolls her eyes, barely stifling a laugh. "Edward, get out. Unlike you, I would like to get some work done today."

He leaves in a huff, slamming the office door behind him hard enough to rattle the blinds. Serena leans her head in her hands with a sigh, tries to focus on taking a few slow, deep breaths.

It's impossibly frustrating how Edward can still get under her skin, that she has never _truly_ put their acrimonious history behind her. 

She remembers telling Bernie about her hobby of 'take it to the grave grudges,' something Bernie's teased her about again and again over the years, and finds herself wishing that Bernie was here with her. That she could come home to a glass of wine and a cuddle on the couch, the two of them laughing together about Edward's presumption.

The thought is immediately chased by a stab of guilt. She knows how important Bernie's work is, how committed she is to the RAMC. It's one of the things she loves so much about her. But thinking about Bernie's bravery doesn't keep her warm at night, and a part of her longs for a time when they can be in the same place for time that isn't counted in days.

She brushes off the thoughts with a shake of her head. Wishing isn't going to make the next eight weeks go any faster, and she wasn't kidding that she has work to do. Flipping open the folder on her desk, she tries to focus on the report that their new CEO has requested, rather than things she can't change.

\---

It’s the first time Bernie’s been to Holby City Hospital, but it already feels familiar. _Once you’ve seen one hospital you’ve seen them all_ , she supposes, waiting for an ambulance to drive past before heading through the large sliding doors. It may also be that she’s not really taking it in, all things considered. 

Now that she’s here, so very close to Serena, she’s practically vibrating with nervous excitement. She wanted to pause for a quick, calming smoke in the carpark, but the twin glares she got from Charlotte and Elinor had her sliding the pack back into her pocket guiltily. 

Still, as they wait for the lift, one of her hands tapping an erratic rhythm against her thigh, Bernie looks around at the porters, the bustling doctors and nurses in scrubs. For a moment she imagines coming back to work in a hospital again, maybe even this hospital. Lord knows life in the RAMC hasn’t been getting any easier as time goes on. Her body seems to protest more and more with each tour. And while she loves the work, she knows she can’t work on the front lines forever, both for her own health and the well-being of the people worrying about her back home. 

Her chest warms at the idea of being with Serena all the time, rather than the brief, intense visits interspersed between too long times apart that they’re accustomed to. She pictures lazy mornings in bed, evenings curled up in front of the telly, laughing and talking about their days as they make dinner — all the everyday moments they’ve never really had together. 

_Maybe it’s time_ , she thinks as the lift doors slide open and she follows the girls on, thinks she’ll bring it up to Serena while she’s here.

They reach the doors to AAU, excited butterflies dancing in Bernie’s stomach. The ward is bustling but not overwhelmed, she’s relieved to see, eyes automatically scanning for a glimpse of Serena. Charlie and Ellie hang back, tuck themselves off to the side in Serena’s empty office after wishing her luck. She knows Elinor wants to find a good angle to record their reunion on her phone, said something about it being perfect for social media.

“Excuse me,” she says to the dark haired man sitting behind the desk at the nurse’s station. His eyes widen a bit at the sight of her, and she wonders again if she should’ve changed out of her fatigues, reassures herself with memories of Serena’s very frank approval of her in uniform in the past. “I’m looking for Serena Campbell?”

“Ms Campbell? She might still be in theater,” he says in a soft brogue. “If you’d like me to check…”

"Maybe I can help you instead?" Dropping a folder on the desk, a man leans against it, looks Bernie over with a leer.

With a jolt of recognition she realizes this must be Edward Campbell. _Hasn’t aged well,_ she thinks uncharitably, only having seen him in pictures from when Elinor was young. Seeing him in person solidifies her intense dislike of the man, his very presence making her feel the need for a long, thorough scrub.

"I don't think so,” Bernie says, injecting a bit of military steel into her voice. Unfortunately it seems to go right over Edward’s receding hairline.

“You’re looking for Serena, right? Is this about a patient?”

“No, it isn’t. I’m Ms Campbell's, ah, _friend_." 

Edward takes a step closer, farther into Bernie’s personal space than she would ever want. 

"Well, any friend of Serena's is a friend of mine." His smirking gaze lingers on her lips, her breasts.

Bernie wonders just how much trouble she’d get in for punching the man in the face. Thinks it might just be worth it.

"Right," Bernie says, dry as the Afghan desert. A stifled honk of laugher that could only be Charlotte comes from somewhere off to her right. "Well, could either of you tell me where she is? We have plans this weekend and I-”

Something clatters to the floor behind her. Bernie spins, her heart going into overdrive at the sight of a truly shocked Serena, a clipboard lying at her feet. She can’t keep the grin from splitting her face as her eyes try to take in every inch of Serena at once.

“B-Bernie?” Serena’s voice is thick with disbelief, as if she thinks Bernie’s going to disappear into thin air at any moment. 

Bernie shrugs. “Surprise?” 

She means to say more, but Serena launches herself forward with a sob. Tears prick at Bernie’s eyes as she holds Serena close, buries her nose in her short brown hair and smells the soft floral scent of her shampoo.

“You’re here. You’re _safe_.” Serena’s words are muffled into the crook of Bernie’s neck, not a whisper of space between them. She pulls back a bit, chuckling even as she looks up at Bernie with tears on her cheeks. “You need a shower.”

Bernie barks out a laugh at that. “I’m sure I do.” Her voice goes soft, and she takes Serena’s face in her hands, thumbs brushing away the tears as she studies her avidly. “But I had to see you first.”

"Well you've seen me." Serena’s words are husky, laden with suggestion that pools heat low in Bernie’s belly. Her eyes drop to Serena’s lovely red lips, see Serena mirror the action. 

A ringing phone startles her, brings the world rushing back around them. Bernie makes herself take half a step back, her whole body screaming in protest. She knows that Serena doesn’t want to be the subject of the rumor mill, thinks they’ve already given the staff of AAU enough of a show. Tangling their hands together, Bernie nods towards the doors.

“Can I buy you a cup of coffee?”

Serena’s smile could power most of the county, and Bernie has to fight back the urge to kiss her. Glancing over her shoulder briefly, Serena murmurs something, then tugs at Bernie’s hand, holding on tight as they walk away from the desk.

\---

Edward stands slack-jawed at the nurse’s station, watching Serena walk out the door hand in hand with the blonde military woman, mind still churning over their interaction. It was all so _odd_. In all the years he’s known her, he’s never seen Serena greet someone that way, never seen her smile like that. Incandescent is the only way he can describe it, lighting her from the inside and making her glow. He scowls at the doors as they click shut, wondering just who the hell this woman is and how Serena knows her. 

Turning to ask Raf if he knows anything, Edward is surprised to see Elinor standing in the doorway of the consultant’s office, giggling at something on her phone with some skinny blonde girl the spit of the woman in camouflage. 

“Ellie, darling.” He grins as he walks their way, ignores Elinor’s exaggerated eye roll. _Gets that from her mother_. “D’you know who that was? Your mum’s friend?”

She and the other girl look at him as if he’s grown a second head. He shifts in place uncomfortably, feels very much like he’s missed something.

“Dad, that’s Bernie.” Eyebrows raised, she waits a moment for it to click. “You know. Mum’s Bernie?”

That rocks him back on his heels, something tight and ugly coiling in his chest.

“B-but Bernie isn’t _real_ ,” he sputters incredulously. “And he’s a man!”

A laugh bursts out of Elinor, accompanied by a loud honk from the other girl, who quickly claps her hand over her mouth to muffle the noise.

“Who ever said that?” She has a hard time getting the words out past her giggles. Anger hardens in Edward and he feels a flush climbing the back of his neck.

“Is this some kind of joke?” he snaps. One thing he can’t abide is being made a fool of, and this is all starting to feel like some sort of elaborate prank.

“Dad, Bernie is super real. She and Mum have been dating for, like, three years now.” The way Ellie speaks as if she’s explaining something to an especially dim child only serves to ratchet up the toxic brew of feelings swirling inside him. She puts an arm around the blonde girl’s shoulders. “This is Charlotte, Bernie’s daughter. Likely to be my future stepsister once the law goes into place, if Bernie has her way.”

The girls smile mischievously at each other, as if this is all some long held inside joke that Edward has no hope of understanding.

It’s the last straw.

He storms away down the hall, ignoring Elinor’s shouts as he pushes through the ward doors.

\---

Standing in the queue at Pulses, Serena clings to Bernie’s hand like a lifeline, rumor mill be damned. She just can’t believe Bernie is _here_ , standing beside her, somehow even more beautiful than she remembers. They keep stealing glances at one another, both grinning fit to burst.

“Serena!”

She groans at the sight of her ex-husband striding toward them, clearly with a head full of steam, feels Bernie’s hand tighten in her own.

“Edward…”

He stops practically toe to toe with Bernie, looks her up and down with a contemptuous sneer even as he addresses Serena.

"Is this how desperate you've gotten, Serena? Giving up men all together, just because you can't have me.” He finally looks at her, a warped sort of pity in his eyes. “A bit pathetic, isn't it?"

For just a moment, her heart aches for the charming young man she used to know, the one who was full of dreams and swept her off her feet when they were at Harvard. There’s no trace of that in the man before her now, and Serena will be damned if she lets him denigrate the woman she loves.

"Edward, if you think I’ve given up anything at all, you're living in a dream world.” Her voice drops low, silky and dangerous. “The same dream world in which you ever actually satisfied me. In _any_ way." 

She hears a muffled snort of laughter from Bernie behind her, and Edward flushes dark red, clearly furious.

"You never had any complaints. In fact, maybe that's what you need." He leers at them, pulling together the tattered scraps of his inflated ego. "I could join you. Show both you ladies what you're missing."

"No need.” Bernie interrupts smoothly, a smirk on her face. “You’d be amazed what you can find on the internet these days. Had to pay for postage, but at least we won't have to deal with the smell of your breath. Irish coffee, was it?"

Edward tenses, hand clenched in a fist as if he’s genuinely going to take a swing. Before Serena can even react, Bernie steps forward into his personal space, eyes hard.

"I don't think you want to do that.” The deadly intensity in her voice sends a shiver down Serena’s spine, a tendril of white hot desire coiling through her. “I think you want to turn around and walk away. Find some hole to sleep it off in.” Edward makes as if to speak, mouth snapping shut as Bernie’s eyes narrow. “And if you ever, _ever_ come near Serena to give her trouble, I'll make sure you're never heard from again. Understood?"

There’s a moment where Serena thinks Edward might actually do something rash. Then he thinks better of it.

Spitting out a slur as he turns and storms off, Serena has to grab Bernie’s arm to stop her going after him.

"He's not worth it, darling,” she says, rubbing her thumb soothingly against the bare skin below Bernie’s rolled sleeve. A wicked smile quirks her lips as she leans closer, hears Bernie’s breath hitch a bit. “Although the idea of you trouncing him is very, _very_ hot.”

“Is that so?” Bernie murmurs. Serena can’t tear her eyes away from Bernie’s lips, realizes just how close they’ve drawn together, and in this moment she can’t think of a single good reason to wait any longer.

Surging forward she captures Bernie’s mouth in a fierce kiss, swallowing the small noise of surprise that dissolves into a moan as she tangles her fingers in the fine wisps of hair that have freed themselves from Bernie’s ponytail. Strong, slender arms wrap around her, a hand gripping at the dip of her waist, the other tracing lightly down the line of her spine, raising goosebumps in its wake. 

Like every time from the first, kissing Bernie is like dark red wine — rich spice on her tongue that floods her with warmth, sends bright licks of flame racing through her veins. And like every time, Serena never, ever wants to stop.

A loud throat clearing eventually breaks them apart. Serena’s cheeks flame with heat when she realizes they’re still standing in the middle of Pulses, a long queue of her coworkers lined up behind them looking astonished. Out of the corner of her eye she see Ric raise his cup of coffee in a cheeky salute, and she knows she’s not going to live this down anytime soon. Though, with the taste of Bernie still lingering on her lips, she can’t summon much will to care.

She pulls Bernie across the room, outside into to the crisp fall air. They claim the bench beside the ambulance bay doors, Bernie’s arm wrapped tight around Serena’s shoulders for warmth.

"So this is Holby," Bernie says, tilting her head to rest it against Serena's. "I quite like it."

"It a fair sight better, now that you're here." Serena’s brow furrows a bit. "How are you here, by the way? You're not supposed to have leave for 2 more months."

"Well, you know the boys at the MOD,” Bernie jokes, faltering when she sees Serena doesn’t buy it for a moment. “Someone owed me a favour. Or five." Bernie steals another kiss, a soft peck against Serena’s lips. "I needed to see you, Serena. I wanted to be here for you."

Serena blinks away the mist of tears, brushes Bernie's fringe out of her eyes. "Remind me to send them a care package. And how long do I get you for? The weekend?" She tries not to get her hopes up, thinks that even a few days are an unexpected blessing.

"First I’m taking you away for a long weekend. Four nights in a secluded luxury cabin, just the two of us.” She keeps talking before Serena can protest. “It’s all arranged and Ric has agreed to cover your shifts. After that, well, calling in all those favours means that you get me for an entire month." Bernie bites her bottom lip, suddenly nervous. "Hopefully you won't get bored of me."

Tears overflow, spill down Serena’s cheeks and she has to bite back a sob of pure joy. She pulls Bernie close again, tastes the salt on her tongue as they kiss.

"Never, darling," she whispers against her lips. " _Never_."

They kiss again, slow and sweet. And then something shifts, Bernie’s hands gripping tighter against her back, tongues tasting and exploring, teeth tugging at Serena’s lower lip until she whimpers. When they finally break apart, they’re both panting, Bernie’s pupils blown so wide her eyes are practically black.

"How long do you have left of your shift?” she asks, her voice a thick growl that settles between Serena’s thighs, makes her squirm. “Because I _need_ to take you home, Campbell."

“Didn’t think of having Ric cover the rest of my shift today in all your scheming?” Serena asks with a glint in her eye and a nudge to Bernie’s hip.

“Unfortunately not.” Bernie nudges her back with an abashed grin. “There are some limits to my powers of persuasion, apparently.”

Serena laughs, presses a few soft pecks to Bernie’s smiling mouth. “Thank goodness Raf owes me.” One more lingering kiss and she forces herself to pull away, afraid that if she doesn’t now, she never will. “I’ll meet you at the car in ten minutes.”

“I’ll be timing you,” Bernie teases as Serena walks away. She turns to throw a cheeky salute and hurries through the doors.

\---

“Mum!”

Bernie looks up from her phone where she’s leaning against the door of Serena’s car, face splitting in a grin at the sight of Charlotte and Elinor walking towards her.

“Everything ok?” Bernie wraps an arm around Charlie and pulls her close, presses a kiss to her cornsilk hair.

“Very. I’m just waiting for Serena to get her things, then we’re heading home.”

Elinor scrunches her nose as Bernie pulls her in with her other arm. “I don’t want to know any more than that, thank you very much.”

Bernie chuckles, squeezing both girls close. "We'll see you both on Wednesday — family dinner, okay?"

The girls roll their eyes and mutter their agreement, each leaning in to give Bernie a quick kiss on the cheek before pulling away.

“Don’t do anything we wouldn’t,” Elinor shouts over her shoulder with a suggestive wink that’s all Serena, and Bernie shakes her head, watches their daughters leaning against each other and laughing as they head to Charlotte’s car, her heart overflowing with love and pride.

“Going my way, soldier?” Serena has her bag slung over her shoulder, a cup of coffee in her hand, and Bernie can’t keep her eyes from falling to the sway of her hips as she saunters closer.

“What’s this for?” Bernie asks as Serena hands her the steaming cup.

“I know how long that flight is.” Bernie swallows a groan as Serena steps close, pinning her back against the car with her curvaceous body. “Thought you might need the energy.”

Her reply is lost as Serena kisses her so thoroughly her brain goes a little fuzzy, barely remembering the coffee in her hand in time to stop herself from crushing it against Serena’s back.

“Bernie?”

“Hmmm?” Her eyes flutter open slowly. Serena’s sparkling gaze is practically burning, red lipstick smeared and faded around her lovely mouth. Bernie knows the rest of it likely now resides on her own lips.

“Take me home.”

She lets herself kiss Serena one more time, pours all of her longing, the months of missing her into the connection, gratified with the way Serena sways towards her a bit when it ends, her eyes glassy and dazed.

“Yes ma’am.”

By the time Bernie makes it around to the passenger’s seat, Serena’s already buckled in, the engine purring to life. Fumbling her own belt into place, she grins wickedly at Serena, lets her desire show clearly on her face.

“ _Drive_.”


End file.
